Disclaimer: I don't own RvB. Rooster Teeth does. Oh! And The Doctor let Rick have one of his older screwdrivers. Said that no temporal adventure was complete without one.
Episode 25: Rebuilding Toys
After searching the area for a while, and seeing the devastation left by... something... Dex was grinning. Marley hadn't been kidding when she said he could have some fun with this area. So, when he met up with Rick and Tucker, he began to rant. "They destroyed it all, Simmons, those darn sons of idiocy. They blew it all up! Frag them! Frag them all to slag! Those darn dirty apes!" Rick, while amused somewhat by his teammate's performance, decided it would be best to at least try to calm him down.
"Calm down, Grif. We don't know that the whole world is like this," he said soothingly, complete with hand motions. However, Dex the Dramatic would not be denied and just rolled right along. In fact, his rant got even more dramatic!
"Yes it is, they destroyed it all. I guess the society of men just wasn't meant to be," he said solemnly, looking into the distance. Dramatically. Rick shook his head, smirking.
"Hey, how 'bout this: how 'bout we explore, more than two square miles, before we jump to conclusions, okay Grif?" he suggested, though he couldn't keep his amusement from his voice. The orange soldier clearly wasn't listening... or paying attention... or, more than likely, just didn't care what Rick had to say. As evidenced by him shaking his head solemnly and continuing his, admittedly entertaining, rant.
"It was definitely nuclear weapons, that's what did it. And the explosions caused massive power outages which caused the failsafe to fail, which released a super bacteria from a secret lab," he said, having clearly gotten into his groove. Rick wondered if he was just trying to see how many movie plot lines he could string together. Actually... that sounded a lot like something the slacker Grif would do, having likely binge watched basically every old sci-fi 'classic.' So, he decided to just let the other soldier go ahead and see how many tropes he could tie into each other. It wasn't very hard to be honest, but if anyone made a movie, or more likely a book series, off it, it would be something. Something bad, something good, or something wacky was up for debate, but it'd be something. Oh wait, Dex was still talking. "That caused a huge plague, and as the victims died, they rose from the dead twelve hours later to roam the Earth and feast on human flesh. A handful of gritty survivors from all walks of life were able to keep the legions of the infected, radioactive, dead at bay using only their wits and an inexplicable comprehension of agricultural science and engineering."
"What?" Rick couldn't help but ask. Did Dex just use the premise of The Walking Dead in his sci-fi/ apocalypse plot line up? Oh wait... no. That was just the plot to pretty much every zombie apocalypse movie ever. Carry on.
"Everything was looking good... and that's when the meteor hit."
"Congratulations Grif. I think you just quoted every crappy Hollywood apocalypse movie ever," Rick said with a Slow Clap.
"Naw. Hollywood doesn't understand apocalypse. They think that just one thing from everyday life goes away and that changes everything. Like in Road Warrior it was gas, and in Waterworld it was land," Tucker contested. Rick blinked and turned to the Blue. He watched old, retro, apocalypse movies too? Huh. Test time!
"What went away in The Matrix?" Rick asked. He had a feeling he knew what Tucker would say, if he'd watched the movie. Though, it could be several things. Free-will, mobility, sunlight, and smart phones were just a few.
"Sunlight," Tucker responded easily. Dex snorted while Rick nodded. Yep. Sunlight. Ya know, among other things. Like free-will.
"I thought the missing element was plot," Dex said. Rick hummed. Yeah... there wasn't much of that either. Not really.
"Explains why you didn't add robot overlords," he said, smirking. Though, when he thought about it... why didn't Dex add robot overlords? He was always going on about how the machines were going to one day overtake them all.
"I was talking about Matrix One," Tucker added for clarification.
"Oh right," Rick said with an understanding nod. Pulling attention back to his 'the apocalypse has come and gone' schick, Dex said,
"Face it Simmons, the age of man is done."
"Wait. If all that happened, then where are the zombies? Why aren't they still around?" Rick asked, thinking this a rather logical question... in context.
"The meteor killed them!" Dex exclaimed, clearly having fun. Or... clearly to Rick anyway. Said techie quirked an unseen eyebrow at his teammate.
"And what about the super bacteria?" he asked. Was Dex really adding to his apocalypse theory?
"It was infected by alien bacteria brought by the meteor, and was wiped out in a massive bacteria on bacteria plague. Very ironic," Dex said seriously. Huh. He was. Maybe the weapons expert should write that 'every apocalypse ever combined into one' book. Sounded like he had all the major points worked out already. It'd be... maybe not amazing, but certainly interesting. Tucker was just standing there, watching the verbal spar and being amused by Grif's wild story about the end of the world as they knew it.
"Okay then, why haven't we been infected by the new alien bacteria?" Rick asked. Another very valid point in context. Also, he wanted to see just how far Dex had thought this out... or could think it out, if he hadn't already.
"It only infects other bacteria. Are you even listening to me?" Dex retorted, now sounding as though Rick were an idiot. Rick rolled his eyes at the man. Yeah, he'd put way too much thought into this.
"You should write a book," he muttered. Dex scoffed.
"Me? Write? No thank you!" he retorted.
/*/
While Tucker was highly amused by Grif and Simmons' little act, he just had to ask, "Do you guys ever get anything done, or do you just stand around and talk all day?" Honestly, if they said...
"We don't get paid enough to do stuff," Grif said, sounding just a tad bit bitter. Yep. That sounded remarkably like Blue Team. Maybe there really was a conspiracy surrounding the Blue and Red war.
"But what about Church, idiot? How're we gonna get him from the past to the future?" Tucker asked, starting to get a little frustrated. Sure Church was a bit... okay, a lot of a jerk, but he was Church! Even he didn't deserve to be stuck years into the past! Or get blown up.
"I guess he can just wait. That's how it usually works," Grif remarked with a careless shrug, turning to look back across the desolate landscape.
"But when he gets to the present, he'll just be destroyed like everything else," Tucker protested. Why was he the only one concerned about this?
"Well, he'll just have to fix it on his own then," Simmons remarked, clearly not really caring all that much.
"And if he's successful, he'll get to live through the coolest apocalypse of all time!" Grif said, far too cheerful. That was when Sarge called for them, in his typical, caring way. And ignoring Tucker. As was his way. Sighing, Tucker forced himself to run after the Reds. Why oh why did he have to get stuck with these guys?
/*/
When the trio arrived where Red, Caboose, and Eagle were, they saw them grouped around what was most likely just a busted up old jeep, but to the sci-fi junky, and rather imaginative, Dex's eyes it could potentially be anything. "Look what I found," Caboose stated solemnly. Eagle, however, was rather indignant over this claim seeing as,
"I found it!" Yes, he had reason to be put out with the Blue. Just about anyone would be irritated at an enemy claiming their work. At anyone claiming their work really.
"Look at what I took credit for finding," Caboose corrected. Eagle rolled his eyes at the simple soldier. Though, really, it was hard to stay mad at him. It was like trying to stay mad at a young child. A young child with a gun. And million dollar battle armor. Yeah... still hard to stay mad at him.
"A-mazing that these two actually managed to accomplish something," Red said in his usual gruff manner, causing Rick and Dex to smother their chuckles, even if it was true. Caboose was a walking disaster. Glaring at his CO, Eagle opened Project Red's Private channel.
"Dex isn't the only one storing up pay back, Red," Eagle growled. Red shivered slightly. Right. He'd nearly forgotten about that. Crud. Once the Blues were out of the picture, he was so going to get it. Why hadn't he listened to Marley and let up on his men?
"It looks like some kind of aline transport mechanism that could be used to-" Dex began, ignoring Eagle's growled threat and the fantasies of pounding a certain Red into the ground it conjured. His futuristic, alien theory was cut off, however, by the singularly unimaginative and now thoroughly bored Rick.
"Or, it's a jeep," he drawled, putting emphasis on 'it's a jeep.' Dex sighed heavily, shoulders drooping slightly as he turned on his heel to look grumpily at Rick.
"You have no imagination," he said in a dire tone, as though predicting that the world was going to blow up on top of everything else that had already abused its surface. Rick rolled his eyes.
"Have you forgotten what I can do with my knives?" he too sent along their private channel. Dex heard Eagle and Red chuckling in his ears and felt his face heat slightly. Though he couldn't deny, Rick could get rather creative with his knife work. He was fairly sure he had a few permanent marks from said creativity to prove it. 'Why did Marley have to comment on the stupidity of throwing weapons when you had a limited supply? When there was razor wire around? Come to think of it... WHY WAS THERE RAZOR WIRE?!'
"Hmmm, let me see if I can get this thing working," Red said, pulling tools from... somewhere and ignoring the beginnings of another Grif-Simmons argument.
"How? There's no parts. And what're you gonna use for fuel?" Rick asked, though he crouched down by the busted vehicle as well. Marley had drilled mechanics into him, it'd be a shame not to put his knowledge to use. Slowly, Red turned to his right hand man.
"Grif was right, Simmons. You don't have any imagination," he said. Dex snickered.
"Oh yeah! Sarge just agreed with me! Now go die in a hole from the ever lasting shame of getting dissed by Sarge!" he said, leveling a Finger of Doom at the maroon soldier. Rick glared, though the ferocity was lost as he still had a full face helmet on. Still, there was quite a lot that could be conveyed through posture, even with MJOLNIR armor on.
"Shut up Grif," Red barked. Dex shrugged, still grinning behind his visor.
"Worth it!" he quietly cheered. Ready to make his presence known again, Tucker chose then to pipe up.
"Hey, we need to find Church," the cyan soldier declared. Red sighed. Though he was moved by the loyalty Tucker's continuing demands exhibited, it was starting the get annoying.
"He's dead, son. Why haven't you given up hope yet and just moved on?" Red asked.
"It's only been a couple of hours!" Tucker defended, though the other Reds knew it was a futile attempt. Red didn't take well to being contradicted.
"Well this should make you feel better," Red began, "when his body was blasted into smithereens by the bomb bits still lodged in his guts, at least he took our enemies with him." He knew it was an out and out lie, seeing as Marley had told him the purple medic had survived and taken Lopez with him, but it fit his character to deny it and claim they were dead. Of course, Dex just had to point out the flaw in his statement.
"Yeah... or the bomb just wounded them and knocked them out for a while. They were farther from ground zero than us," Dex said.
"Stop being such a Debbie Downer Grif!" Red roared, though he was fairly sure Dex had woken up while aboard The Ghost as well. If that gut feeling was right, then Dex was simply stating the truth as a known fact. The orange soldier shrugged and sauntered off to do... something. Or nothing. No-one was quite sure which. Red sighed and turned back to the Warthog, Rick following suit.
"Think we should get Eagle down here and teach him a few things about vehicle maintenance?" he asked his CO. Red shook his head.
"Not on this piece of junk. Seeing as it's the only recognizable jeep out here, we have limited parts, and there's no telling what might happen out here, we can't afford him messing up. Best start teaching him about maintenance when we're back at a fully functioning base," he said. Rick shrugged and went back to assessing what needed to be replaced and what they could fix themselves.
/*/
Quite a ways away, on a beach bordering shark infested waters, Lopez the Heavy was experiencing some... slight... difficulties. "Peligro. Error. Error. Peligro. Error. Error. No puedo mi cuerpo," he moaned, unable to feel his body. This might have been due to the fact that his body... wasn't connected to his head at the moment. Which would be cause for concern and a repeated error message. Unfortunately, Doc/O'Malley, who found him, were about as good with repairs as they were with medicine. Which was to say, horrible. Still, upon finding the robot's head imbedded in the sand, O'Malley let out an evil laugh and declared,
"Don't worry, my metallic friend. You'll be up and about in no time. Muhahahaha. Muuhh-hahahahah. Muhhh-hahahaha-heh. U-ha! Haw. Haha. Uhngh." Lopez watched O'Malley impassively as he coughed. He really should lay off the... "Hah!" Yeah. That. Ugh, why couldn't he have stayed with the Reds?
/*/
Back in the Desert of Destruction, Red was directing Rick to help him fix up the jeep they'd found. "Hold the light there," he said, pointing to a certain spot. Rick adjusted the light before clipping it in place and working on another spot not far away. "Okay fellas, I think I've got it. Give her a crank," Red called not long after. He got no reply. Rick looked over at him, shrugged, and pulled himself back out from under the jeep before standing back up. "Guys?" Red called again, unwilling to get up just yet. "Hey, what in tarnation are you knuckleheads doing up there?" he yelled. Surely Rick would have let him know what was going on up there... so why wasn't he?! Above the jeep, Dex was having an argument with Eagle, which Rick had found too amusing to interrupt.
"No, I don't think getting new rims for the jeep's a good idea," Eagle said, palming his visor. Rick smirked while Dex retorted with,
"Oh come on! If we all kick in, we can get some spinners, some amazing subs, hydraulics!" from the driver's seat. Tucker raised a hand.
"I'm in," he said, apparently seeing something to the idea the other two Reds didn't. Rick leaned against the lightly rusted hood of the jeep, waiting to hear more.
"Why?" Eagle asked. Rick found himself nodding. Now wasn't that the question that encompassed them all?
"Uh, for style?" Dex said, as though Eagle were a total idiot.
"For chicks!" Tucker said automatically. Rick slowly turned to look at the Blue. Okay, forget staying out of this one, that demanded a response.
"Chicks? You're a space marine, lost on a desolate world with no water, no food, little ammo, and maybe some transportation, if we can get it running... and you're worried about picking up chicks?" he asked, confounded at the depth of Tucker's girl craze. "There is no-one for miles. And if D-Grif's theory is correct, then it's unlikely that anyone is still alive, much less a woman!"
"What, suddenly you're a pessimist?" Dex asked, though Tucker ignored him.
"Yeah, but if we do find some women, we will literally be the last men on Earth for them," he said. Dex nodded solemnly.
"He's got a point," he said. Rick glared at him.
"I really hate you," he growled. Dex shrugged.
"Nothing new," he said, and didn't that just sound wrong? Rick winced. He knew it was true, but it just... wasn't right. He didn't mean it when he said he hated Dex but... Dex sounded like he meant it when he said he was used to being hated. Rick blamed Grif Sr.
"All my life I've had girls tell me, 'not if you were the last man on Earth,' haha. Well, that may be true, but let's see what happens when I'm the last man on Earth with a sweet pimped out ride!" Tucker went on as though he hadn't heard the Agents.
"That is so sad," Grif said softly, looking at Tucker. Eagle sighed, shaking his head, and hopped onto the gunner platform while Red finally stood up.
"If you ladies are through gossiping, I could use some help fixing our vehicle," he groused.
"Oh yeah, right," Dex said, turning back to the controls of the Warthog. "Let me try starting it up." The engine cranked without a problem and Dex drove it a shuddering four feet forward before shutting it back down so Sarge could safely look it over. Grinning, Rick hopped up to claim the shotgun seat. "What are you doing?" Dex asked warily.
"What does it look like? I'm getting in the jeep and claiming a good seat before Sarge can," Rick shot back.
"Ah. Right. Carry on then Simmons, and welcome to the ranks of those who question authority at every turn," Dex said, holding out a hand.
"Yeah, wouldn't go that far," Rick said, ignoring Dex's hand in favor of looking over and tweaking the instrument panels of the Warthog.
"Will you two shut up? We need to get this thing fixed," Red said, popping back up.
"Just looking over the electrical components in the dash, Sarge," Rick responded, the front panel already resting on his knees and a sonic screwdriver in his hands.
"Oh. Well. Keep up the good work Simmons," Red said before dropping back down to get under the Warthog.
"What's the rush to get this hunk of junk fixed anyway?" Tucker asked, looking at the jeep with a highly critical eye. Dex clicked his tongue.
"Shouldn't have said that," he muttered as Red popped back up.
"Listen dirtbag," he said, and Dex was quite happy that Robot Number Two had been destroyed so he didn't get slammed with a rifle at the word 'dirtbag,' "I know on Blue Team you like to lollygag a bit..."
"There is no Blue Team! It's all a lie! Red and Blue are the same!" Tucker yelled. While Project Red would have liked to drop all pretenses right then and there in the face of Tucker's conviction, they also saw a prime opportunity for some quality teasing.
"Aw don't start in on that again!" Dex groaned, leaning back in his seat.
"You sound like a conspiracy nut when you talk like that," Rick informed him, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Oh no! The government put a chip in my brain~!" he said teasingly, wobbling his arm like people do when talking about aliens... or, did, 500 years ago, before the Covenant attacked.
"The President can hear my thoughts!" Dex added.
"We never landed on the sun," Eagle said, then added, after a sharp inhale that put them all in mind of dramatically widening eyes, "they put fluoride in my water!"
"Actually, that one's true," Rick said, complete with Dramatic Finger.
"Wait, it is? Huh. No wonder I listen to so much pop music," Dex remarked. Rick gave him an odd look for that one, even if the other man couldn't see it. Before he could question this response, Red decided they had been talking long enough and stepped forward, waving his wrench.
"We're fixing the jeep because we need to be prepared. Just as our enemies are no doubt preparing to attack us at this very moment," he said.
"Just a few hours ago you said Church's bomb took them all out! Stop being so inconsistent!" Tucker yelled. Eagle was fairly sure the poor Blue was barely holding himself back from waving his arms in the air.
"That's just the way we roll, Blue," Dex said, crossing his arms and putting his feet up on the dash of the Warthog, "that's just the way we roll." Rick snickered and went back to making sure all the itty bitty lights and bells and whistles on the instrument panel were in working order.
/*/
Far away, in some sort of abandoned but not destroyed base not far from the beach and shark infested waters, O'Malley was laughing manically as he surveyed his new base of operations. "Yes, this place will do nicely for an evil lair. It's diabolically designed!" he remarked to Lopez.
"As a student of feng-shui, I can tell you this house is 88% good luck. Also, very breezy. I like the floor plan," Doc piped up, deciding that if he had to put up with a crazed A.I. in his head, he could at least annoy it with his perky, up beat personality. If that meant hamming it up, so be it! He'd rather be seen as a flower child hippie than sit idly by while some deranged A.I. took over his body! He was Frank Defeanse! He defined passive aggressive warfare!
"Quite you fool," O'Malley shot back at the medic, who was mentally smirking inside the mental fortress he had so carefully built over the weeks O'Malley had shared head space with him. Sure, maybe antagonizing the already mad A.I. inside his head wasn't the smartest thing in the 'verse, but it beat being a passenger in his own body. And it was a great stress outlet.
"I just want my own room," Spanish!Lopez stated, "I hate sharing with the vacuum."
"Hello? Is anyone home?" O'Mall y called, his vaguely British accented voice echoing slightly. "Don't be alarmed, we're only here to kill you and take all your possessions," he added. The only response he got was the echos of his own voice and the whispers of Doc. O'Malley made a habit of ignoring those whispers. They tended to be far too friendly and overtly nice. Though, he'd been getting a few angry and sarcastic thoughts from the medic lately. He wondered, occasionally, if he was beginning to rub off on the pacifistic medic. He wasn't sure if he should be gleeful at the thought... or worried that the medic would eventually be able to subjugate him. "Excellent! No doubt our very presence has scared everyone away!" O'Malley remarked with his trademark evil laugh. Mentally smirking yet again, Doc seized control and remarked,
"Why don't we just see if this place is listed by a licensed real estate agent?"
"Oh shut up!" O'Malley barked. Honestly, this guy...
"But we don't even know if it's been inspected recently. It could need foundation work," Doc said, finding far too much pleasure in the increased amount of anger coming off of O'Malley. 'Heh, take that you bundle of anger and aggression!'
"It could have mold," Lopez remarked lightly, for once in English. O'Malley, and Doc, turned to the robot head in shock.
"You speak English?" they asked as one.
"Only when I'm happy. I've been stuck in Spanish mode for a long time. I blame the Blues. Darn Dirty Blues!" Lopez said, slipping back into Spanish after the first 'blue.' O'Malley growled, already past his shock that Lopez possessed the ability to speak English, even if it was more or less a locked ability.
"Both of you shut up! We're moving in and that's final. It has machine gun turrets, two living quarters with ample closet space, and a short commute to my secret laboratory! It's perfect," he said, letting loose another evil laugh.
"Yeah, but what about the school district?" Doc asked. He had decided this was the perfect opportunity to antagonize O'Malley. There were just so many ways! And the consent evil laughs were not only annoying, but they irritated his throat more than O'Malley's voice already did. Suffice to say, Doc wasn't too happy with O'Malley, though he tried to stay positive. It wouldn't do to give in, now would it?
"We have no children," Spanish!Lopez said drily. Then again, the poor robot couldn't really use any other tone. Doc blamed the programmers who made his Spanish setting.
"It's important to think about resale value, Lopez," Doc said in his best teacher voice.
"Resale value? Our plan is to rule the world! Not make prudent investments," O'Malley snarled, causing Doc to once again grin behind his mental walls, which he was slowly strengthening and expanding.
"It's important to have a fallback plan," Lopez said, again in English. Doc had a feeling the robot was enjoying heckling O'Malley as well.
"Oh shut up. We're moving in, that's final," O'Malley declared. Oh, why couldn't he have normal henchmen, like the Freelancers? They were good help... oh right. 'Good help is so hard to find these days.' Ugh. Looks like that applied to just about every era. Buggidie.
"Hey look, a computer! Now I can finally update my blog!" Doc said, spotting the device near the center of the compound.
"You have a blog?" Lopez asked, still in English. Doc wasn't certain, but it sounded like the robot was genuinely curious. Probably about what the medic could actually write about enough to warrant a blog.
"Yeahha! It's great. It's just like being a real journalist, but without all the hassle of, like, liability and accuracy," Doc replied to the robotic head. He didn't indulge the 'dumb' A.I. with information on what he posted about. No need to let O'Malley know he was, ever so slightly, getting to his unwilling host.
"No. I need that computer for compiling evil formulas. And to rebuild the weather machine. Also to download music," O'Malley said with another evil laugh.
"Does anyone want a g-mail invite?" Lopez asked.
"Ooh, I do!" Doc said, thinking of all the snarky emails they could exchange.
"I only have 40,000. It's very exclusive," Lopez remarked.
"Where's the mouse thingy?" O'Malley asked, looking around the console. Doc laughed in the privacy of his mind... what little there was.
"It has one of those red rubber dot thingies on the keyboard. That's way better than a mouse. I call it a nubben. Who wants to touch my nubben?" he remarked.
"GAH!" O'Malley screamed. Too bad Lopez had built up a resistance to A.I. possession. And lacked a body. WHY WAS THERE NO-ONE ELSE TO POSSESS?! No wait... WHY DID HE EVER CHOSE THIS NUT?! In the small mental fortress Doc had built around his core personality, the medic roared with laughter. This was far too much fun! Passive aggression for the win! Not all wars were best waged with overt violence after all.
/*/
Flowdie yelled as he fired round after round at the encroaching Grunts. Marley was down, a gash on her arm and opposite leg, not to mention possibly broken ribs and a more than likely fractured wrist, keeping her out of the melee. This wasn't how it was supposed to go! Why hadn't Marley called in more back up?! His eyes narrowed as he grabbed Marley and started dragging her toward The Phantom, firing all the way. Once aboard, Flowdie punched the door controls and, after securing Marley, dashed into the cockpit. As swiftly as he could, he gunned the Pelican's thrusters to get them out of the crush of alien life and more or less safely in the air. That done, he quickly called in Mich and Louie, two of Marley's contemporaries from The Valiant. With a sigh, he set the Pelican in a holding pattern and went back to Marley. She had her helmet off and was glaring at him. "We could have taken them," she growled. He glared.
"No. We couldn't. Not after you got hit. Why didn't you call for back up before we got here, Marley? Are you trying to get yourself killed?" he asked, looking her in the eye. He had long ago learned to treat her like a wild animal, show any weakness, any fear, and she'd lash out. She huffed, turning her head. Flowdie's frown grew more pronounced. Her refusing to meet his eyes was a bad sign. "Marley... are you still beating yourself up over Sidewinder?" he asked softly. Her jaw tightened and Flowdie sighed, sitting back on his heels, which was actually pretty hard in full armor. "I told you, it happened and there is no way to change it. Even if you could go back in time like Wyoming, I doubt the outcome would be any different. So the only thing you can do, is live with it. Move on and learn from your mistakes."
"Sure, easy for you to say," Marley groused. Flowdie then did something outside his character. He growled and slapped her, causing her head to jerk to the side.
"Do you think I like the idea of possibly loosing my men?! Do you think I don't catch myself wondering what might have happened if I were there? Do you think that I don't wonder, every now and again, what would have happened had I stayed in Blood Gulch instead of 'dieing' and joining you on The Ghost? Because if you do, you're wrong. Dead wrong. And it hurts that you'd think that, it really does. I feel like a dad who's being forced to sit on the sidelines and watch as my sons fight a deadly war by themselves. Yes, I wish things could be different! Yes, I wish I could be there for them every step of the way to watch their backs and help them patch themselves up after they inevitably get hurt. But wishes rarely come true and wrinkles in time don't open in caves so I'm stuck here, in the present, with all the crap in my past that I can't clean up, and I just have to deal with it because nothing I say or do is going to change it!" the man yelled, eyes as hard and fierce as battle honed steel. Marley gaped at the man, holding a bloodied hand to her stinging cheek.
"You slapped me," she breathed, eyes wide. Flowdie snorted, glowering at her.
"After all that, that's what you choose to focus on? Crazy woman," he scoffed, standing and beginning to pace. Marley slowly got herself back under control and lowered her hand.
"Flowdie... I'm sorry," she said softly, looking at her hands. Flowdie sighed, stopping his pacing to look at her over his shoulder.
"So am I. I shouldn't..." he began, but Marley cut him off by hauling herself out of her chair. Immediately, Flowdie was at her side, trying to gently put her back. "You shouldn't be... !" he tried, but was interrupted by a solid kiss from the woman of his dreams.
"Oh, I think I should," Marley whispered in his ear as she rested her head on his shoulder, face nestled in the crook of his neck. Flowdie felt a shiver go down his back and a silly grin stretch across his face, but he didn't care.
"I still think you should be sitting. Putting weight on that leg of yours can't be good," he said, pulling her down with him as he sank to the floor.
"I need..." Marley began, struggling to get back up, but Flowdie was determined that she wasn't getting out of his arms.
"I already called Mich and Louie," he said, closing his eyes and savoring the feel of her in his arms, that rusty, chemical, metallic smell that hung about her. Flowdie had once described her scent as sunshine and gunpowder with a healthy dose of rubbing alcohol. "Rest. We'll finish this when they get here." Marley stopped fighting, but didn't relax. Letting out a deep breath, Flowdie searched his memory for a fitting song. Something slow and soothing, to help her relax, but not a lullaby. Deciding on an old, sad tune his veteran mother had sung to him the night he declared that he was too old for such things, he softly began to hum, then to sing.
"Oh Danny boy, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the roses falling
It's you, it's you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
It's I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
And I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
But when ye come, and all the flow'rs are dying
If I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am laying
And kneel and say an ave there for me.
And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me
And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be
For you will bend and tell me you love me
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me."
As the last note hung, bittersweet and quivering in the air, two more ships appeared, flanking The Phantom. Smiling softly, calmed by the old tune and the woman in his arms, Flowdie carefully secured his love and went to the cockpit. Flicking open a channel to the other two Ex-Freelancer ships, he asked, "Hello boys. Ready to rain some destruction down on these bad boys and make 'em use shell casings as pacifiers?" He got two laughs in reply.
"Let's do this, Flowdie!" Mich called with wild abandon.
"Can't let you and Marley have all the fun, now can we?" Louie asked and Flowdie could easily picture the rakish grin on the slightly older man's face.
"Ah. That's the thing now boys. Got precious wounded cargo. Precious cargo who thought she could take the world all on her lonesome, with only lil' ol' me for back up," Flowdie informed his wingmen. Twin hisses came over the radio.
"Got 'cha. Why didn't you call in more than just us?" Mich asked. Louie laughed so hard, Flowdie was fairly sure that had he not been strapped into his chair, the man would have fallen to the ground from the force of it.
"This is Flowdie we're talking about Mich! You know how he gets, when what's most precious to him is threatened," the former Agent Louisiana said, once he'd gotten enough control over his laughter to talk.
"Oh right. Ya know, sometimes I think you should have been called Agent Beaver. Or Agent Salem. Either works to be honest," Mich said. Flowdie growled, though this only caused more laughter to come from his old comrades.
"You're right! Oh man, now I'm gonna be calling you Agent Beaver!" Louie gasped.
"Eh, better than what Black saddled me with," Flowdie shot back.
"Oh? And what's that?" the former Agent Michigan asked, sounding truly curious.
"Hippie," Flowdie ground out. Both Mich and Louie started laughing again.
"And that fits too! Man, you need to stop giving us so many good names for you!" Louie said. Flowdie shook his head.
"Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you lot," he muttered. "Alright. I'm setting down in the forest, three clicks to the west. Marley's out of this one, so it's just us boys," he said louder.
"Copy that Blue Leader," Mich said, all business.
"Still. Fight," Marley muttered, shifting. Flowdie shook his head at the stubborn woman.
"I may not be a doctor, or even a medic, but I can and will sedate you if I have to," he told her, steadfastly ignoring the wolf whistles from Louie and the quiet snickering from Mich.
"Control freak," Marley shot back.
"Mad woman. Setting down now," Flowdie countered, then put action to words and landed the craft before taking up his gun and a few extra clips Marley had stashed aboard the Pelican. He dropped a feather light kiss on her blood streaked forehead, then vanished back into the forest and the fight. The landscape was transformed into a blood soaked graveyard within an hour and a half. Flowide took care to draw out the death of the Brute who wounded Marley.
/?/
A/N: So... yeah. That happened. And we get a bit more with Marley, Flowdie, and two new Phantoms! Round of applause for Louisiana and Michigan! Lovely states, lovely, especially in late Spring early Summer.
A/N 2: Fun fact, the beaver is the state animal of Oregon. Originally, I had it as panther, which is the state animal of Florida, but beaver is funnier, don't you think? If it had been badger, it would have been utterly perfect(reference my Harry Potter AU) but still. Spelling and continuity have been fixed... mostly. I'm fairly sure there's a few things that could be better but as a self-proofer, I'm calling it good. 8/20/16